The Queen's Pain

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

Dakota

Kenna broached the subject first with her team of scouts. They had to be on alert immediately, since the attack was fresh. She told them to stay close, to go in groups, and to watch the tree line obsessively. The first couple rounds had already left on patrol by the time she called for a mandatory special meeting for the whole town. It would take place just after sunset. Ken said only that they would have to address some additional issues from outside and that she would outline plans for it. Dakota sat and watched as she did everything.

Undoubtedly, their generous haul of needed items, treats, and other provisions didn’t meet with the usual fanfare. The various recipients simply accepted their supplies with thanks. The normal folks looked at the two of them with suspicion. But then again, what else was new?

“A mail shipment arrived today,” Katya said to both of them as they wandered into their house’s living room.

Ken nodded. “Can you make sure everybody gets theirs before the meeting? It might calm some people’s nerves.” She sighed and rubbed at her temples. “I mean, at this point, anything could help.”

Before Katya could ask any questions, Ken exited in a hurry. They had about an hour or so before people would start filing into their meeting place. She would orchestrate the whole thing with her partner in crime, the engineer—and possibly the quiet girl from that cult. He’d watched the basic setup more times than he could count. Just because it was something like an emergency didn’t mean they wouldn’t follow the usual protocol. Ken neither needed any aid from him, nor would she ever request it.

He sat down in a soft chair, kicked off his shoes, and folded his legs underneath him. Leaning back, Dakota closed his eyes.

But he opened them again once he heard Katya’s voice cross the space between them. “You received a letter. Doesn’t say who it’s from.”

Tilting his head to one side, he reached out and took a stiff piece of paper from her small hands. A postcard. “Greetings from Mustang Island State Park,” it said on the front with a picture of a sunset. “Corpus Christi, Texas.” He turned it over. The card had at least four times as much postage as was needed to get it to Colorado. He noted that whoever sent the thing really wanted it to reach him.

The address said “D. Cross,” and just the town and ZIP code, but there was no one else in New Somerset who it could possibly be for. To the left, scribbled in blue ink, was a simple passage. He read it out loud. “For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.” Strange, to say the least. A warning? Advice? Some kind of a joke? He repeated it, slower this time. Then, addressing Katya, “Does that sound familiar to you?”

“I don’t think so. It sounds like an old song to me. It bounces, da? But I’m the wrong person to ask. I only read for research.” And the Bible, he’d noticed.

“For sweetest things,” he said again for his own benefit. “f**k, I think its iambic pentameter.”

“What?”

He smiled. “It’s Shakespeare. I bet it’s a couple lines from Shakespeare.”

Katya narrowed her eyes. “What does it mean, though? Why would anyone send it?”

“I’m not sure. Could be my sister.” The handwriting did look familiar, though he didn’t know from where. “Last I heard, she and the family were heading north. This is from Texas. She hates warm weather.” He bit into his lip and pondered the mystery. “I’m certain that whoever it is, they’re trying to tell me something.”

“Which is?”

Dakota laughed. “They think I’m an asshole. Or that I’m in danger of becoming one.” Handing the card back to her, “If you get time, can you look it up for me? I wanna know exactly where the message is from. Maybe that’ll help us figure out who my new pen pal is.”

“Okay. After the meeting.”

* * * *

Kenna

To say that the TFIs were concerned would be a severe understatement. They panicked. There were mumbles of abandoning the town, of fleeing rather than helping to protect one another. In the end, Ken and Darrin were able to calm them enough to get through the gathering. But it took a promise of twice as many patrols and a full, fortified barricade—and four long hours of debate.

She was exhausted.

And only Ken and Dakota really understood what they were up against. By the hunters’ descriptions, these freak show creatures weren’t acting on any sort of command. They were just here, eating all the local wildlife and destroying the ecosystem. They acted like wild animals. They roamed free in the forests. Perhaps they were even breeding on their own, surviving without any intervention from their original creator. Which meant that they could be everywhere. Any place that suited their advanced physiques and bodily needs. Moreover, the possibilities about what might be lurking outside of New Somerset were endless. Anything their imaginations dreamed up could be out there.

Ken walked slowly back to the house, keeping her eyes on the dark trees. She thought she heard a howl on top of the babbling of the river, but more than likely? Her tired mind played tricks on her, to increase her own personal fear of the monsters. But for some reason, fully functioning creatures weren’t nearly as scary as the mangled things she’d first encountered. These animals wouldn’t be as frightening as Moíra’s original experiments.

Though she didn’t much feel like it, Kenna stopped by her makeshift stable to check on Lugar and Ruger. She’d have to guard them, too, if and when the others realized that her two-headed horse and the forest hazards shared the same creator. She kept that part out of the discussion, of course. Her pets didn’t do anything wrong. They wouldn’t even bite anyone. They were sweet, enjoyable, and—most importantly—domesticated. They loved going on rides among the very woods that now posed a threat. They enjoyed carrots and salt and long brushings. They were harmless.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you,” she assured them, though they of course couldn’t understand. “I won’t let it.”

After a short grooming session and some late-night treats, Ken left them in favor of the promised warmth and comfort of her bed. She dragged herself into the house through the back door. Stopping only long enough to grab a glass full of homemade, sweetened iced tea, she forced her body to climb the steep stairs up to the top floor. It took all of her remaining energy to strip down to just a small shirt and underwear before throwing herself down on her bed. She fell asleep on top of the blankets.